


Personal Space

by loves_books



Category: A-Team (2010), A-Team - All Media Types
Genre: First Time, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-22
Updated: 2013-07-22
Packaged: 2017-12-21 01:08:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/894023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loves_books/pseuds/loves_books
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With the boys on the run together, they find themselves living in tighter quarters than they'd ever had to before. This is particularly irritating for BA, who likes his personal space and has had enough trouble dealing with his personal attraction to that crazy lieutenant without having the man reacting to the pressure by being extra snarky and extra flirty.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Personal Space

The first few weeks on the run are so filled with just staying one step ahead of the military and trying to stay alive that they barely have time to catch their breath, let alone annoy each other. Days spent driving non-stop, collapsing exhausted into whatever cheap motel they can find, doing anything they can to make some money, at least they have each other and some sense of stability in this crazy life they find themselves living. 

But when the dust begins to settle, when they start to find a rhythm to this new life on the run, BA starts to feel the pressure. Yes, he’s got his three best friends with him night and day, but on the other hand – well, they’re with him night and day. For safety’s sake they can’t stray too far, always watching each other’s backs, especially on a job. Lack of money means they always share a motel room, maybe stretching to two if they’ve had a good payday, and BA can’t remember the last time he spent so long living so closely with a group of men with absolutely no time spent apart. 

Army life had been one thing, living in a small tent practically on top of each other, but there had always been somewhere a guy could escape to for a while. On base, BA would usually find somewhere quiet in a workshop and take something apart just to put it back together again, or find a quiet spot out by the range where he could just sit and read. Even when they were out on deployment, the team rarely needed to be together 24/7, with separate roles and skills splitting them up. And in prison, of course, he had all the personal space he could ever want. A little too much of it, in fact.

Hannibal, Murdock and Face were his brothers, his family. And like any family, they had fallen out from time to time, strong personalities clashing, but they would take some time apart and come back together like nothing had happened, a little closer than before. Now, all those annoying little quirks and habits BA had been able to ignore for nearly 9 years were really starting to get on his nerves, and he felt himself dreaming about spending just an hour alone, an hour without Murdock singing nonsense songs, without Hannibal hovering close chewing an unlit cigar, an hour without Face just being Face.

BA hadn’t figured that Face would be the one driving him insane. It was all the little things, the way the conman was always just there, touching him, talking to him, always in his personal space. It had been hard enough to push down his attraction for the handsome lieutenant while they worked together but now they were literally living together it was becoming impossible. The way Face would walk around the motel room in just a towel after a shower would leave BA trying to look at anything other than those incredible abs. The way Face would lean over the table at a diner to force-feed BA his fries, claiming he was on a diet, and all he could do was lean closer trying not to stare too obviously into those bright blue eyes.

Of course, it was all the big things as well. During long hours of driving, it was natural that four men with very different tastes in music would argue over which radio station to listen to. As the main driver, BA usually got the final word, but Face had developed a habit of draping himself over the back of the driver’s seat, one hand resting on BA’s shoulder as he stretched to twirl the dial or press buttons, depending on which type of van they had ‘borrowed’ that week. 

“Come off it, man,” BA would growl, as Face’s soft hair brushed against his ear. “Leave the damn thing alone, ‘sall good.”

“No way, BA.” And that would set Murdock giggling in the back seat at the rhyme. “It’s my turn, and I know what I wanna listen to…”

When he was finally satisfied, Face would press a flirty little kiss to BA’s cheek as he sat back into his own chair, squeezing his shoulder before letting go, and BA would grumble something along the lines of “Need to go get laid, you flirtin’ with me, fool.”

And the whole time he would be aware of Hannibal sat next to him in the front seat, watching with a wry little smile and shaking his head, while Murdock would immediately start to sing along with whatever soft-rock radio station Face had found this time.

Some things didn’t seem like they should be a big deal, but they are. Inevitably, stressed out and living on top of each other as they are, someone catches a cold. No-one wants to admit to being the first - though BA would swear it was Hannibal who sneezed the first sneeze – but of course they all get sick in short measure, sharing their germs around. They all deal differently, Hannibal determinedly carrying on as normal despite his red eyes and nose, Murdock weepy until they dose him up with sugary cough syrup and then BA wishes he could lock the hyperactive pilot in his van, while BA himself just wants his Mama’s homemade chicken soup or, failing that, to just be left alone.

Face, on the other hand, becomes a clingy, needy creature. One night, as they finally crash in a half-decent motel room, Hannibal falls asleep on one double bed while Murdock buries himself under a pile of blankets on the other. Finally starting to feel human again, BA sits himself on the sofa, not quite ready for bed yet, and enjoys the quiet for about thirty seconds until Face drags himself out of the shower, wearing a pair of Hannibal’s sweats that hang loosely from his body. 

Even sick and miserable, Face is beautiful to BA’s eyes, and he stares resolutely at the muted TV until the other man flops onto the other end of the sofa, sniffling quietly. He can’t ignore the ill man, so he asks quietly, “You feelin’ better yet, man?”

“Not yet,” comes the husky reply, and BA can’t help but wince at the sound of that usually smooth voice. A second later, a pillow lands in his lap, and Face stretches himself across the sofa, head and shoulders nestling into the pillow. “Mmm, you don’t mind, right, buddy?” 

BA has to concentrate hard to quell the erection he feels starting as the other man squirms around in his lap until he gets comfortable, one hand reaching out to clutch weakly at his knee. And what can he say except, “’Course not, brother.” After that, with Face snoring softly and drooling into the pillow, BA can’t exactly throw the other man off to go to bed himself, nor does he want to if he’s honest. But still he feels his dark face burn with embarrassment when Hannibal, waking to visit the bathroom, drapes a blanket carefully over the two of them, smiling that knowing smile of his and gently smoothing Face’s messy curls before patting BA on the shoulder. The colonel never says a word.

It’s a million other small things. When Face gets tired and stressed he gets sarcastic and snarky, and Murdock just plays right along, the two men sniping at each other until Hannibal snarls at them to “Shut the hell up, boys.” BA can just grit his teeth the whole time, ignoring the way that Face’s voice, when it gets that tired rasp, goes straight to his groin. When they finally get a little money to treat themselves, and Face manages to find some of the expensive shampoo he prefers – the one that smells of oranges – the other man seems to hover deliberately close to BA, who has to fight the urge to just lean over and bury his nose in those soft caramel curls.

BA is aware he seems to be the only one having a problem with the lack of personal space. Murdock is generally as happy as a puppy, bouncing around them all constantly and keeping up a steady stream of funny voices. Even on his bad days, which seem to come less and less as time goes on, the pilot doesn’t seem to want to be left alone, and BA finds it hard to begrudge his friend the occasional hug when he seems to need it. 

Hannibal deals with their new life the same way he always deals with anything: planning. The colonel has plans for every eventuality, plans for possible jobs, for places to stay, for emergencies. He generally indulges the other three much as he did when they were still in the army, and doesn’t seem terribly bothered by the way they are living. Of course, with Hannibal, it’s hard to tell what he really feels beneath that cool exterior, but he certainly isn’t tearing his silver hair out at the enforced close proximity.

But Face seems to be going out of his way to get as far under BA’s skin as he possibly can. Taking his t-shirts without asking. Borrowing his shampoo when he runs out of his own expensive brand. Little touches on his arm, or leg, whenever he passes by, until BA just wants to scream out “Leave me the hell alone!”

The final straw comes when Face wanders naked out of the bathroom one morning. BA was sat on the sofa, half watching the news, half drinking coffee and slowly waking up, when the other man just wandered into the room, buck naked, and headed straight through into the tiny kitchenette.

“Face, what the hell man? Put some damn clothes on, ain’t nobody wantin’ to see your skinny white ass.”

“I’ll have you know my ass is neither skinny nor white – I’ve been tanning,” came the chirpy reply, as Face poured himself a mug of coffee and leaned towards BA over the narrow breakfast bar, damp curls falling across his forehead. “And lots of people want to see it.”

“Put some damn clothes on!”

“Can’t.”

“Why the hell not? You got clothes, ain’t you?” BA’s loose sleep pants were becoming a little less comfortable than they had been, and he leaned forward on the sofa to hopefully conceal his growing erection. The thought of Face tanning, naked… And when the hell had he found time or space to do that since they’d been on the run?

“Didn’t want to disturb Murdock.” The pilot was sleeping off a concussion. “And Hannibal’s like a bear with a sore head.” On heavy painkillers after spraining his ankle, the older man was indeed a cranky patient. “And there aren’t any dry towels, so I thought I’d just air dry. You mind?”

Not in the slightest. BA found himself struck speechless as Face put down his coffee, stretching both arms high over his head and rising up on his tiptoes, giving a wonderful view of his toned, muscular torso in all its glory, including that fine v of coarse, dark hair leading down to… The breakfast bar thankfully concealed whatever lay below, but BA’s cock gave an almighty twitch and he growled, deep in his throat.

“Bosco? You don’t mind, do you?” the other man asked, innocent face plastered on as he wandered around the bar into the living room, and BA felt his jaw go slack as Face, in all his tanned beauty, stood naked in front of him.

In two steps he was up off the sofa and across the room, crowding the taller man back against the bar, lips pressed to Face’s in a fierce, brutal kiss. He felt hands come up, seizing his biceps, and growled into the kiss as the other man squeezed hard, pressing his body against him. A growing hardness pushing insistently at his thigh told him how much the lieutenant was into this, and he broke the kiss, spinning Face and slamming him down over the counter with one smooth move.

One hand at the back of Face’s neck kept the lieutenant pinned as he rubbed his still-clothed erection firmly between toned butt cheeks. Face brought his hands up to rest on the bar near his head, but made no move to push up. “This what you want, pretty boy? Damn tease. This what you been begging for?”

“Yes,” Face hissed, wriggling his ass against BA’s cock and drawing another groan out of the big guy. ”Wondered how long it would take you to get the damn hint – oh!”

Smirking, BA kept the tight grip he had seized on Face’s now rock-hard penis for a moment longer, kicking those long legs a little further apart before adding a warning squeeze to the back of his neck. “Stay there. Do not move one muscle, man.” Removing both hands, he quickly stripped off his pants and looked around the room for something he could use. Impressively, Face did as asked, remaining perfectly still and bent double over the kitchen bar, and the perfect view of that inviting ass was driving BA wild as he searched. “Damn, man, we need – “

“I got it.” Without lifting his head or chest, Face slid his hands forward across the bar, searching the bottles and jars by touch. He threw one back over his shoulder at random, and only army-honed instincts let the big guy catch it.

“Ketchup? Don’t think so. What else?” He crowded back into the other man, drawing a moan from Face as he felt the size of BA’s erection pushing at his hole, before he slid another bottle backwards. “Now we’re talking.” Slathering the cooking oil generously over his straining cock, BA leaned forward over the prone man in front of him, one hand back at his neck, the other wrapping around a slender hip. “You asked for this, Faceman.” And with one achingly long push, he drove straight into that waiting body.

He felt Face strain beneath him, muscles tensing and hands fisting weakly where they lay by his head, but the only noise the other man made was a hissed “Yes!” as BA finally bottomed out, thighs pressed up against strong thighs. He held still a moment, letting the other man adjust to his size, and trying to calm himself. The tightness, the heat, the wonderful feel of stretched muscles tensing and clenching around his cock was almost too much, pushing him over the edge too soon, but mercifully Face managed to relax himself a little and the danger passed. Breathing hard, BA leaned down and gently bit the scruff of the other man’s neck, just below where his hand still pressed down, and Face moaned into the worktop, “Move already, damn you. I won’t break.” 

He bit down harder in warning – he was in charge, not the Faceman – before doing just that. He pulled out slowly before just slamming right back in, pulling a surprised cry from the other man, then started to pick up speed, holding Face down with one hand and pulling him backwards by the hip to meet his thrusts. Holding nothing back, he pounded into that perfect body, relishing the feel of clenching muscles as Face picked up on his rhythm and started to rock back as much as he could, given how tightly he was pinned. Weeks of pent-up sexual frustration fed his strength and he released Face’s neck to grab his hips with both hands, soon realising he could lift the other man off his feet with every thrust, and Face just lay there the whole time, quieter than he had been, little moans and gasps and begging noises ripping from his throat occasionally.

Feeling his release approaching, BA bent forwards slightly and picked up his pace even more. The change in angle seemed to work for Face as he suddenly cried out, “Oh yes, right there Bosco! Yes, harder, stay there, oh, god – “

Hearing his name pulled from those perfect lips finished it for BA and he slammed forward into Face with a roar, feeling his orgasm rip through him as he emptied himself over and over into that hot, tight channel, body locked rigid and hands squeezing tight enough to leave bruises on the other man’s hips. Dimly, he saw Face trying to move one hand down to grab at his own, neglected cock, and slapped it away before reaching under the lip of the breakfast bar, tugging once, twice before Face cried out his own release, spilling hot and wet into BA’s hand. The feel of rippling muscles around his sensitive cock was almost too much, and he collapsed across Face’s heaving back as they both tried to catch their breath, slick with sweat and panting desperately.

After a moment, BA slipped out of Face and staggered backwards until his knees hit the couch, and he let himself fall down, legs not quite up to the job of holding his weight. He lay sprawled, still breathing hard, and watched in fascination as his own semen seeped from Face’s stretched hole, the other man still bent double over the kitchen bar, hands now gripping the edge very loosely. Feeling his heart rate gradually slow to normal, he figured he should probably be the one to speak first. 

“Y’ok, Face?”

“After that? Hell, yeah.” With an obvious effort, the taller man pushed himself up on shaky arms, back still to BA, head hanging low. “God, I needed that, man. Fuckin’ incredible.”

Legs a little firmer now, pushing himself up from the sofa BA walked through into the kitchenette, dampening a hand towel and wiping himself off, before crossing back into the living room and reaching to gently clean up Face’s backside and thighs. The other man turned to lean back against the counter as BA tenderly wiped over his spent cock, then found himself pulled into a kiss, far gentler than their earlier battle of lips and tongue and teeth. Throwing the towel over Face’s shoulder into the sink, he wrapped his arms around that slender body, finding Face was still shaking a little from the experience, and pulled the lieutenant back with him onto the sofa, settling them on their sides as Face whispered, “Thought you would never get it, big guy. Thought, maybe, you didn’t want me.”

“Been damn fools, both of us,” he grumbled. “Next time you want me, you just ask. No more drivin’ me crazy.” Face nodded against his chest, and BA felt his eyes slipping shut as sleep called him. The sound of a door opening made him start, and he remembered there were two other men in the apartment with them. Then he remembered Face’s moans and cries, and his own roar of completion, and figured they probably had heard everything that had gone on. Seeing two naked men on the sofa wasn’t going to be much of a surprise after that.

He cracked open one eye to see Hannibal limping slowly into the bathroom, shaking his head. “About damn time,” the colonel called softly over his shoulder. “But get me some goddam ear plugs next time, okay?”

And BA suddenly felt, laying there with a giggling, drowsy Face in his arms, and his two other friends close by, there were worse things in life than losing a little personal space.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for a prompt at ATeam_Prompts:
> 
> With the boys on the run together, they find themselves living in tighter quarters than they'd ever had to before. Deployments were one thing, but having to deal with the pressure of possibly being caught, close spaces, no way to get away from each other, everybody's irritating little personal habits and so on are too much. This is particularly irritating for BA, who likes his personal space and has had enough trouble dealing with his personal attraction to that crazy lieutenant without having the man reacting to the pressure by being extra snarky and extra flirty.
> 
> Things finally boil over. BA snaps, throws Face over the nearest horizontal surface and has at him.
> 
> Face loves it.
> 
> Bonus points for bemused observance of it all by Hannibal and/or Murdock. (it might go without saying, but OP doesn't want a hint of dub-con in this. Face is just as into it as BA)


End file.
